Afterlife
by Draco the Lizard
Summary: After the events of Harry Potter and the HalfBlood Prince Albus falls into the hands of Voldemort. What will the Dark Lord to him? Containts hints of VoldemortDumbledore. Nothing graphic. [Oneshot, expect no sequel]


Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. Apart from the concept of Voldemort/Dumbledore, because I doubt she'd want it.

Beta'ed to death by: The ever fabulous and picky elysiancherry.

The first thing Albus noticed when he woke up was that he couldn't move. At all. He tried to close his eyes again, but couldn't even manage that. He also noticed he was in some sort of cave, with shadows on the walls, cast by a few torches. This was unexpected. He would have frowned if he had been able to. He told himself to be calm. To think. What was going on here? The last thing he remembered was Severus, on the tower. Ah yes. Avada Kedavra. He hadn't know for certain if Severus would've been able to do it. Hadn't even been sure if he wanted Severus to do it. What if Severus had betrayed him after all? What if he had really been on Voldemort's side all along? What if. The what ifs were supposed to end that night. They were supposed to end with his death, and he would no longer have to wonder if he had made the right choices.

And now he was here, paralysed in a dark cave. It looked like the what ifs were just getting started. He sighed. It felt odd. Then he realised he wasn't breathing. Didn't even feel the need to breathe. He didn't need to breathe. He didn't need to blink. He presumed his heart didn't need to beat either. The Avada curse had worked. He was dead. Severus had done his part of the job by killing him, and he had done his part of the job by dying. What had gone wrong?

He heard movement. Someone or something was in the cave with him. He didn't want to think about what could be in this dark place with him, what could've gotten him here. It sounded like whatever it was, was leaving. Maybe it was getting others? Albus only had his brain now, and couldn't think of a way out of here. Apparation was impossible since he would have to be able to move. All the usual transportation spells involved wands, or the ability to move. Or to speak. Could he speak? He hadn't even tried it. The sighing had worked. "Help," he whispered quietly. Well, that worked at least. So, verbal transportation spells that didn't require movement or wands then.

"With us at last, I see," Someone was standing next to him now, appearing from the shadows. He couldn't see who it was, since it looked like the person was dressed in black robes and a black hood.

Oh no. A horrible sense of dread swept through Albus. A Death Eater. Where there was one, there were more. And yes, several others did join the speaker. A small group had gathered where Albus laid. They were towering over him, but Albus presumed he was lying on a stone slab of some height, since his face seemed to be at the level of their waists.

And where there were Death Eaters and a valuable prisoner, there was of course Lord Voldemort himself. The only one who didn't bother with black hoods or a disguise.

"Albus." A statement. The voice had changed so much ever since Albus had first met the young boy. It had grown deeper naturally, but there was more of a hiss to it now. A side-effect of using Parseltongue too often. "I see you are fully conscious now. Tell me, how does it feel to be dead?"

So he was correct then. He was dead. "Not too bad, actually."

"Good. Wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable," Voldemort sneered. "I assume you have already noticed that you can't move? That you can't even blink? The only reason you can still speak is because I allowed you to. For now at least."

Albus had mentally prepared himself for this. There was to be torture. It was only to be expected in the hands of Voldemort. "Why did you do this to me? I was dead, I was no longer a threat to you."

"Proof. I had to be sure." Voldemort's eyes moved to one of the cloaked figures. "I have experience with people faking their death." The cloaked figure seemed to flinch a little. That had to be Pettigrew. "And of course, the idea of having Albus Dumbledore under my complete control was something I couldn't just pass up, could I?"

"Under your control?" Albus asked. But how? Then he remembered the Inferi. The dead bodies protecting the Horcrux. Dead and under Voldemort's control. And Albus was going to be one of them. Maybe he already was. "What have you done to me?"

"I have, in a way, brought part of you back to life." Voldemort's eyes shone bright red, a sign of his enthousiasm and pride.

"That's impossible," He said. Albus had studied that part of the Dark Arts thoroughly enough himself.

Voldemort smirked. "Clearly not, as you are evidence yourself! I have split up your soul. A small but essential part is back in your old body, the rest is dead. It is essential for creating Inferi that a small part of the host remains, and I will admit it was the hardest part of creating the first few. After I knew how to do that to someone, it was almost easy."

"So I will join the Inferi," Albus stated.

"You already are one. All of my Inferi are like you. Dead bodies with their decaying process stopped forever. Unable to speak, and only able to do as I bid them. I believe you've come across them before," Voldemort explained, with pride in his voice.

"They seemed so mindless." They had. When Harry and he tried to steal the Horcrux, that was what the Inferi were. Mindless, without a thought for themselves. He had seen no intelligence in those dead eyes, only a dull desire to get to them.

"They do get that way after a while. It's when their... previous owners have gone insane," His smile twisted cruelly at that. "I wonder when your mind will break, Dumbledore. Until it does, you will be my slave. Tied to me in more ways a House-Elf could ever be."

So that was to be his fate then. He was going to spend the rest of his days serving Voldemort, mute and forced to obey. No surprise the Inferi go insane. "You don't need to do this, Tom. Let me die. You know I'm no longer a threat."

"Maybe I will let you speak for some time longer. I do like it when people beg to be killed. Makes such a difference from what they usually beg for," Voldemort's eyes bored into Albus'. "But then you never were usual."

"And neither were you," Albus said. It was true. Tom Riddle was one of the most unusual students he had ever seen at Hogwarts. "I knew that when I first met you at the orphanage."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. Obviously he didn't like to be reminded of that. "Leave me," He ordered. "I need privacy for the last and final part of the spell."

"Master, are you sure?" A female Death Eater asked. "He may still try something."

"Do you think I couldn't handle a paralysed wizard?" Voldemort snapped. "Leave me."

The Death Eaters all walked out, some slower than others. It seemed they were all eager to see what the final part of the Inferi spell was.

"You never were the type to share with others," Albus said.

"Never will be either," Voldemort replied, placing his cold hand on Albus' forehead. "no matter how much they wanted me to be nice and friendly at the orphanage." He spat out the last word. "I was grateful when you got me out. You must've realised that. Intensely grateful. I even looked up to you when I was at Hogwarts. All the other students spoke of you with awe in their voices. That's when I knew for certain that was what I wanted. I wanted others to respect me, to be in awe of me. Why do you think I wanted to be a teacher at Hogwarts? I thought it would be enough to have students speak of me in hushed whispers, but both you and that fool Dippet wouldn't let me."

"Tom," Albus said, and he saw Voldemort glare at him for using the old name. "We both know you didn't come back to Hogwarts to teach. The castle has always had a pull on people."

"Not just the castle," Voldemort said, and then looked like he wished he hadn't said it. He removed his hand from Albus' forehead abruptly, leaving Albus to wonder why he had put it there in the first place.

"Of course, you wished to influence the young," He added. One of his reasons to turn the young man down.

"Not just the young," The other man said, and again the same look crossed his face. He didn't really seem to want to say what he wanted to say, but did it anyway. "I learned so much in the years I was away. I thought, if anyone were to appreciate what I had done, what I had tried to do, it was you. I did incredible things, things people thought impossible. Like I do now," He smirked again.

"Oh, Tom. You don't have to do the impossible to impress me. I was already impressed when I found you. You already were more powerful than most first years. You showed so much potential. I've kept my eye on you, as you grew up and learned even more. I always found it so sad you didn't learn about the one thing that makes life worth living," Albus said. Voldemort had done all that to impress him? It seemed ludicrous. However, mixed with the desire to gain influence and control over people, it seemed more plausible.

"Love," Voldemort sneered. "It's always about love with you, isn't it? I suppose you also expect Potter to defeat me because he loves, and I don't." He leaned over the slab, closer to Dumbledore. "I have news for you, Dumbledore. I have loved once. I didn't think it was the one thing worth living for at all. I thought it was a miserable thing. It made me miserable. I wanted nothing more to do with it afterwards."

Albus was caught in Voldemort's powerful stare. "Tom, many teenagers have unrequited crushes, that's no reason to..."

"It was not an infatuation!" Voldemort yelled. "It was not a stupid teenage crush, Dumbledore! If it was, it wouldn't have lasted for more than ten years!"

"By Merlin," Albus muttered. This could not possibly be heading where he thought it was heading. "You did it to impress me. Because you loved me."

"And you rejected me. Several times. Because you thought I couldn't love. I loved too much," Voldemort hissed. "I hated every minute of it. I hated my desire to please you, I hated my desire to have your respect and attention. I hated being dependent on your feelings for me. I travelled trying to look for it elsewhere, but nowhere could I find someone like you, someone who was truly my equal. You never fawned over me like the others. You were never as charmed by me. You made me want to work for that, you were a challenge."

"I would just have been another trophy," Albus said, saddened to hear this truth now, now that he couldn't do anything to fix it. All those years, and he didn't know. Couldn't have known.

"You could never have been a trophy. You would've continued to challenge me. Made me work for your love and respect. The only one to ever do so," Voldemort whispered passionately. "And you told me I was looking for love in the wrong places!"

Albus did remember that conversation well. He had re-visited it only a short while ago. "I remember. I thought you were, I thought you were looking for love elsewhere when you should've been looking for it at Hogwarts." It didn't matter anymore now. Didn't matter who knew. It was over and done.

Voldemort's eyes grew large. "You loved me back."

"You were a remarkable boy who grew up to be a remarkable and handsome young man. Intelligent, ambitious, charming, who wouldn't love you?" Albus smiled wryly at him. "In a way, I always had respect for you, Tom. No other student I have seen would've dreamed of doing what you have done. I never seriously considered acting on it. First because I was your teacher, then because of what you had done. You had strayed, I didn't think I would've been able to bring you back from the darkness. I thought you had given up on love. You always professed such a hate for the emotion, I didn't know..."

"You were never supposed to know," Voldemort snarled. "It made me weak. My love for you, it was a weakness. And I knew that if I ever loved someone else like I loved you, I would never become as great as I wanted to be. As great as I am. People speak in awe of me now, and I am truly the greatest wizard who has ever lived. I don't need your love, Albus. Love has made you weak. You're dead. Your love for me, for your students, it has brought you only your death. It's over for you."

"It doesn't have to be over, Tom. Not for you. You can still love me," Albus pleaded, hoping there was still enough left of the old Tom to make the change.

"Be quiet, be quiet!" Voldemort yelled. "That's not why I brought you here! I brought you here to become my slave, not to become yours."

"Tom, you would never be my slave, I..." Albus tried to argue. Always keep trying.

"SILENCIO!" Voldemort rested his wand on Albus' lips, as if to reinforce the spell. "Silencio. No more talking from you, Dumbledore. Not unless I wish it. And I don't think I will wish it for a long time." He stepped back, and eyed him thoughtfully. "I think I have changed my mind."

Albus had a sinking feeling at this. He sounded too happy, too pleased with himself for it to be good. And he had thought he had reached the other man, thought he could persuade him. He had failed.

"I don't think I want you as my personal servant just for now. I think I'll give you to my Death Eaters for spell practice. We both know they could use some." The remark was too flippant for Voldemort. A part of Tom was still in there. Unfortunately it was the part of Tom who liked to hurt the ones who hurt him, not the Tom Albus had grown to love. "Next time your precious Harry Potter won't beat them so easily. Next time, Hogwarts will be the grounds of a bloodbath."


End file.
